The next day.
Soren stood in front of Mirelle's office desk, his posture straight, his expression calmer more than ever. Across from him, Mirelle sat in her usual chair—her fingers lightly resting on a stack of documents, though her eyes had long since drifted away from the paper.
She was staring.
No—pondering.
There was something about this man that tugged at her thoughts in strange ways. Mysterious, borderline suspicious… and yet, strangely enough, alone in the same room with him didn't make her feel alarmed. Or wary.
"Lady Mirelle."
"…Miss Mirelle."
"…Mirelle."
Soren's voice, calm and deliberate, called to her again and again. He stood patiently, hands folded behind his back, his shut eyes tilted slightly forward.
Mirelle blinked, snapping out of her trance with a small cough, clearly trying to hide the fact she'd been spacing out.
"Ahem. What? Why do you keep calling me?" she huffed, adjusting her glasses with a flustered air. "Also, don't think I didn't hear you just casually say my name like that."
Soren remained silent for a beat too long—his lips twitching ever so slightly.
He hadn't expected her to pick up on it. His voice had barely been a whisper when he called her just Mirelle. Just a little mischief, nothing more. But even then… she heard him.
"If you're preoccupied, I can come back later," he offered, his tone polite.
"No need," she replied curtly. "It's nothing."
A short pause passed.
"Speaking of which," Mirelle continued, folding her arms, "why are your eyes still closed? You have an active eye now, don't you? Are you still pretending to be blind in front of me—after everything that happened between us the other day?"
Soren shook his head.
"It's not that," he replied calmly. "This eye consumes mana. I prefer to keep it sealed."
"Oh? So it's an ocular power?" Mirelle raised an eyebrow. "Would you care to explain… how exactly you obtained such a thing?"
Silence.
Soren didn't answer. He just stood there, quiet.
Finally, he murmured, "I'm sorry."
That was all.
And strangely, it stung.
Mirelle didn't understand why. She wasn't particularly close to him—had no real reason to expect honesty. But still, hearing that reluctance… that refusal to open up…
It felt like a small, unspoken rejection.
She brushed the feeling aside.
Better not to dwell on it.
"Regardless," she said, shifting the topic briskly, "your participation in the Demon Subjugation Campaign will begin in three months' time. Until then, the Academy and Headmaster have decided—you will resume your duties as an instructor."
"I understand," Soren said with a nod. He had anticipated as much.
"And since Instructor Elara is currently on medical leave—as per your testimony—you'll be covering her classes as well. Any objections?"
"None. I'll handle it."
"Good," Mirelle said with a small nod. "Regarding your request to let your sister Lyra stay with us—that won't be a problem. You don't need to worry about her. She's a good child. I personally like her."
Then, with a final glance at her papers, she added, "That's all for now. You're dismissed."
Soren gave a respectful nod and turned to leave. His cloak shifted lightly with his movements, trailing behind him like always.
But just as his hand reached the doorknob, he paused.
He turned back.
Mirelle glanced up from the documents she had started flipping through again. "Is there something else?" she asked.
"Lady Mirelle," Soren began quietly, "out of everyone in this Academy… you're now the second person I like the most."
Mirelle blinked.
Soren continued, voice steady. "You held back when fighting me. You protected my sister. For that—I'm sincerely grateful. From the bottom of my heart."
Her breath caught slightly. That… caught her off guard.
The earlier disappointment she'd felt—the sting of being left in the dark—seemed to ease.
But then—
Wait.
Second?
Her brows twitched. "Hold on," she said quickly. "Second? Who's in first place?"
"Elara."
And with that simple, unwavering answer, Soren opened the door and walked out.
---
The classroom assigned to Elara's Enchant and Reinforcement Magic lectures stood quiet—sunlight slipping through the tall windows, casting soft glows across polished floors and rune-inscribed desks.
Soren arrived at the door, paused for a brief moment, then pushed it open.
A gentle creak echoed as he entered, and instantly, the classroom fell silent.
Dozens of students turned their heads, murmurings dying mid-sentence. It was clear they hadn't expected someone to replace Instructor Elara so soon—let alone him.
The hot topic swirling through the Academy halls now stood before them: Soren Noctis.
He walked with steady steps toward the instructor's desk, his long coat trailing faintly behind him. Every eye followed him. Every breath seemed to pause.
Once he reached the front, he turned to face them.
"I will be taking over Instructor Elara's class for the time being," he said, voice calm but firm. "I'm not as proficient in reinforcement as she is, but I hope you'll bear with me."
Gulp.
A few audible swallows broke the silence.
To be fair, rumors surrounding the man before them were split into two extreme camps. Some said he had slain the notorious Crimson Apostle, a villain who had recently climbed to the S-Rank individual list—no small feat. Others whispered the exact opposite: that he stole credit from someone else, and that the real killer had vanished without recognition.
And then there was the death of Instructor Vellian—struck down not long ago by an assassin many claimed the man himself sent to kill Soren. The Academy was still reeling from that event. After all, Vellian was a known associate of Malchior Vexen—a prominent member of the High Council.
People were starting to whisper. That entire faction belong to Elder Vexen… was starting to smell rotten.
Soren, for his part, remained blissfully unaware of the chaos his name had stirred across the campus. Or perhaps—not unaware. Just… indifferent.
He had more pressing concerns.
Reviving Elara. Surviving the war campaign. Managing how to respond about the mark of the Dragon. Being forcibly included as member of the Black Vow—at least according to Lancer's remark.
And what he didn't know, was that worse trouble loomed ahead—trouble in the form of Lilith, daughter of Zeron, who had now set her sights on him as well.
"I attend this class because Miss Elara is strong," came a voice suddenly from one of the students. It rang clearly, cutting through the silence. "I don't want to be taught by someone weak. So I want to challenge you to a spar. That way, you can prove you're worthy to replace her."
Soren tilted his head slightly.
He didn't respond immediately. Instead, he activated his mana sonar—a method he used often, pulse of detection magic that let him "see" the world around him in absence of sight. It was a habit, one that many overlooked or tolerated simply because of his blindness.
Normally, it would've been considered rude. But Soren? He had long since stopped caring about such etiquette.
Yet when the scan reached out… something pushed it back. Rebounded. As if the target was shielded.
Interesting.
"Oh? Can't even scan me?" the student mocked. "Guess that proves you're even weaker than I thought."
Soren didn't push further. He didn't need to. The voice was enough. Male. Young. Quite arrogant. Possibly talented.
How strong he is didn't matter.
"If you're going to challenge someone, at least have the decency to give your name," Soren replied flatly. "Student."
A pause. Then:
"Kevin Hart."
"Kevin Hart," Soren repeated, nodding slightly. "Alright. Let's move to the outdoor training ground. We'll conduct class there."
He turned to the rest of the students.
"Everyone, grab your things. Class will continue outside."
The students exchanged glances—confused, intrigued, murmuring among themselves. None of them had expected this. What was supposed to be a quiet, maybe even boring class without Elara had suddenly turned into something completely different.
Something exciting.
Something they'd talk about for days.
In fact, many students were already thinking the same thing: Those who skipped class today are seriously going to regret it.
After all, Kevin Hart wasn't just anyone.
He was the class leader—the top student in their cohort. Confident. Talented. Respected. Even feared.
As the class began to shuffle to their feet, a soft voice rose behind Kevin.
"Are you sure you want to do this, Kevin?" asked a young woman seated just behind him. Her voice trembled slightly, and her expression was filled with worry.
She was beautiful, with long platinum blonde hair and a gentle aura that didn't match the tension in her eyes.
Kevin looked back at her with a grin. "It's fine, Sofia. We all need a bit of stimulation. Besides... I'm curious."
Sofia lowered her gaze.
She never told anyone—but her bloodline ability was unique.
She could see a person's aura. Not just surface emotions, but deeper truths—things hidden beneath masks, barriers, or even magical concealments.
And what she saw when she looked at Soren...
It wasn't light.It wasn't calm.It wasn't even human.
A swirling mass of blackish smoke clung to him like a living thing—dense and heavy, like a stormcloud forged from nihility. It radiated ominously around his body, but especially around his left eye, where it condensed into a spiraling vortex of pure dread. It pulsed, like a heart that had forgotten how to beat gently.
It wasn't just power.
It was a walking disaster.
That man...
Sofia's hands can't helped trembled.
That man is pure danger.